French defeat

Compared to the elegant and airy showdowns typical of the Air Force, ground battles lack any semblance of splendor or magnificence. Here, there is only cruelty, blood, and death. An open field is littered with the corpses of French soldiers, and a car lies completely destroyed. Flames engulf the area, heat emanates from craters, and gunshots fill the dense air. The brutality of war is undeniable here.

"Machine gunner! The French are attacking again! Some of you, evacuate the wounded first! Hurry! Get the anti-tank guns in position! Cover our flanks... ready the grenades," an ensign commanded loudly. "Signal the mortar positions behind them to open fire and cover us!" Two soldiers, carrying Panzerfaust rockets, hurried past him and dove into a nearby trench to prepare for their mission against the mammoth-like heavy French tanks.

At the German position, several soldiers dragged a wounded comrade back through the trenches. Nearby, a machine gun spat out a long tongue of fire, its rounds tracing through the air towards the French soldiers who fell into pools of blood. Since setting foot on German soil, their advance had been fraught with difficulty.

A French tank, covering the infantry, moved slowly across the battlefield, followed by hunched-over soldiers. Occasionally, a bullet whizzed past the tank, striking the men behind it. More soldiers began to adjust their positions in response to the direction of the enemy's attack. Ahead of them, the wreck of a light tank smoldered, emitting thick smoke.

Suddenly, from behind some bushes, a white smoke plume erupted as an anti-tank shell soared straight towards a French heavy tank. The shell's force tore through the tank's thick front armor, sending shards into the engine room and instantly killing the crew inside.

"Hit the target! 500 meters to the left! French tank firing at us! Quickly adjust the angle! Quick!" the anti-tank gunner shouted. Beside him, several infantrymen and a loader scrambled to reposition their cannon.

Not far away, the machine gun mounted on a French tank rattled violently. The German infantry, having placed anti-tank guns in the bushes on both sides, utilized a 75mm caliber cannon, the bane of French tanks. Its low profile and large caliber armor-piercing shells could easily destroy any armored target from a distance.

"Let the artillery target the enemy's position! Destroy those anti-tank guns! Otherwise, my tanks are done for!" a French commander shouted to his adjutant after lowering his binoculars. "We've lost seven tanks here!"

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" The sound of French artillery firing echoed as shells pounded the German defenses, stirring up clouds of smoke. The German forces had to relinquish part of their position, but soon, German artillery returned fire. The Friedrich rocket artillery then unleashed a barrage, inflicting heavy casualties on the French. Hundreds of artillery shells exploded on the open ground, and a nearby stash of gasoline detonated, setting several tank repairers and a malfunctioning tank ablaze.

Ten kilometers past the German-French border, the French finally encountered a true German line of defense, albeit a temporary one in the woods. Despite its newness, the French had already lost thousands of men and had not managed to advance even a meter. They faced Germany's elite 7th Infantry Division of the Western Front, one of the earliest model infantry divisions of the National Defense Forces, equipped with the most sophisticated weaponry and a resolute fighting spirit. They had repelled the French offensive with just a few 75mm anti-tank guns and Panzerfaust rockets.

In the command post of the 7th Infantry Division, Major General Frederick was refining his defensive strategy. The intensity of the French assault had surpassed German expectations. In defending against the French, the Germans had already suffered over 400 casualties. This battle felt less like a conflict from World War II and more like a continuation of World War I.

"Hello? I'm Major General Frederick! Yes... I'm here... Yes, General! I will hold this position for four hours and not retreat a single step," Frederick spoke into the phone, then turned to a map in front of him. "Order the 2nd Regiment to fortify around this village. I want them to hold for at least 10 hours! Do you understand?"

"Understood, General!" the adjutant replied immediately. "I will contact the 2nd Regiment now."

"Additionally, deploy the division's armored artillery battalion for a limited counterattack to alleviate pressure on our entire line of defense," Frederick continued. "And have the head of logistics tally our ammunition and fuel, and apply for resupply."

"Commander!" An officer entered the headquarters, dusting off his uniform before reporting with a smile, "The reinforcements from the army have arrived—a whole company of recruits."

"Assign them to companies that have suffered significant losses. Each can take up to 25 people. Make sure to distribute them where needed most. Nearly all frontline troops are requesting reinforcements," Frederick instructed, handing the order to the officer. "Next time, bring in supplementary soldiers trained in medical care—we're short on medics..."

Meanwhile, in a modest field command post, a French leader stormed in, tossing his helmet onto a table strewn with clean maps, creating a resounding "ding." Ignoring his officers, he grabbed a teacup off the table and gulped down the coffee. 

"It's hard to imagine such a rude man could be a French officer. You seem more barbaric than a German," a colonel remarked disdainfully.

"If you don't want me to twist your neck, you'd better shut up," the officer retorted, wiping coffee from his mouth and exhaling heavily. "Sir, my division has suffered heavy losses on the front. You told me we were facing only a German regiment, but their firepower suggests at least a division."

Sitting across from him was General Charles de Gaulle, commander of the French forces, who frowned and stroked his chin. "After two hours of combat, it appears the German forces have been reinforced. Withdraw your troops. We've just learned that the Luftwaffe has gained air superiority, and we must immediately fall back to the Maginot Line due to our lack of anti-air weapons."

"What a joke, Sir!" the officer exclaimed in disbelief. "I've left 900 good soldiers out there! 27 of my tanks were destroyed! And now you're telling me to retreat?"

"Yes, retreat! This time, we underestimated the Germans. We were unprepared for a large-scale ground battle," De Gaulle explained with a sigh. "If we don't retreat now, your division will soon be annihilated."

"The Air Force was crushed?" the officer asked, stunned.

"Yes, it's a mess. Our aircraft were like lambs to the slaughter under the German anti-aircraft fire," De Gaulle lamented. "The Germans used white phosphorous shells against our planes, decimating our bomber fleet."

"My God," the officer muttered in shock.

"We've lost, and the defeat is complete," De Gaulle stated, standing and placing a hand on his officer's shoulder. "The latest reports are filled with dissatisfaction. We can't win this battle now; we must minimize our losses."

By noon, the French assault had ceased. Soldiers bearing white flags approached the German lines to negotiate the retrieval of their dead. After a brief discussion, the Germans allowed unarmed French soldiers to enter the battlefield's center.

In the afternoon, the French began their retreat, loading bodies onto trucks and leaving the battlefield dejectedly. They had crossed into Germany at dawn with contempt, but now it was clear they had failed in their mission and were defeated by the Germans.

Soon after, German bombers flew over the retreating French forces, dropping bombs that sent groups of soldiers to their deaths. With little air cover and few anti-aircraft weapons, the French lost dozens of tanks and hundreds of vehicles in their retreat. When they returned to their starting positions, many familiar faces were no longer there.